


A Bleak Midwinter Day

by ladyoneill



Series: Lady O's Teen Wolf Bingo Stories [98]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Holidays, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 21:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3090719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John comes home from work to find the house quiet, the kitchen a mess still from breakfast, and Peter huddled in his bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bleak Midwinter Day

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hurt/Comfort bingo prompt: depression, though this is certainly not clinical depression, just Peter having a bad moment that led to a bad day. Fourth fic in the series of Peter/John fics (the most recent ones in this series if you click back three to "No Rails To Be Ridden Out On". One more to come for now.

Three weeks in and John comes home before dinner to find the house dark and quiet. Frowning, he flips on the hall light, then peeks in the kitchen.

The breakfast dishes are on the counter; the coffee pot is turned off but still retains a couple cups. On the table the newspaper sits in pieces where he left it.

A burst of fear hits him, quickly fading to worry, and, as he takes the stairs two at a time, he runs over the facts--the front door was locked; there are no signs of a struggle. Peter probably just left...

Hurt joins the worry and lingering fear until he pushes open the guestroom door and finds Peter huddled beneath the blankets on the bed. The window is cracked open and icy air makes John shiver.

"Peter?" he asks as he quickly crosses the floor to close the window. Usually he wouldn't intrude without permission, but there are too many things wrong, and the outside temperature has been hovering around freezing all day.

"I'm fine. Just tired. Just..." Peter's voice is a croak, not like he's sick--and John vaguely remembers Stiles telling him that werewolves can't get sick like humans--but like he's...

Been crying.

Before he can even think, John's sitting one hip down on the bed and turning on the lamp. "Peter, talk to me."

The werewolf keeps staring at the wall, his shoulder trembling, his face pale and unshaven, as he mumbles, "I'm sorry I didn't clean the kitchen or start dinner."

"That doesn't matter," John says lightly, wanting to reach out and touch Peter, but not sure what's going on or how he'll react. "I was worried. Can you tell me what's wrong?"

There's silence for a long moment, then the exposed shoulder shrugs. "I don't know."

"Did something happen?"

Peter shakes his head and buries his face in the pillow.

"You seemed fine at breakfast."

"I don't know, John," Peter almost snarls, then a whimper breaks from him, and John reaches out and takes his shoulder, rolling him onto his back.

Electric blue eyes shine with tears and something clenches in John's chest. "Oh, Peter."

"I don't know what's wrong," Peter sobs and then growls, swiping angrily at his wet cheeks. "I don't know what sent me up here to huddle pathetically in bed all day. I barely could get up to take a piss. I haven't slept. Haven't thought of anything in particular, just...just..." His hands smack down on the mattress in frustration, and John waits silently, watching as the werewolf tries to bring himself under control, not sure how he can help him.

Finally, Peter whispers, "I never should have been released from Eichen House."

"Don't say that," John protests. 

The wolf fades from those blue eyes, leaving them dull and red rimmed from crying. "I feel like I did when trapped there, unable to do anything, to make any decisions, to even think rationally. They said I was cured."

"You are. You're having a bad day. Something must have set you off."

"I..." Shaking his head, Peter turns over again, but this time towards John, moving enough to place his cheek against John's thigh. "I...I just want to sleep, but I'm scared the nightmares will come back."

Gently John places a hand on Peter's head, his fingers carding through his hair. "Then I'll stay."

Peter sobs one more time and closes his eyes.

When he's deeply asleep, John leaves only to change into pajama pants and a t-shirt and make a sandwich which he eats while watching Peter twitch and listening to him mutter. As the wolf starts to thrash, John abandons the last bite of food and quickly moves to the bed to slide in next to Peter.

He doesn't think about the potential danger or the weirdness of sharing a bed with another man, just wraps his arms around Peter and holds him tightly until he quiets.

Within an hour, he's asleep as well.

*****

John awakens to the sun shining in the window and knows that's wrong because his room faces west and the blinds are always closed. Blinking open his eyes, he sees Peter propped up on one arm watching him, and the memory of the night before floods back, making his cheeks redden.

"You stayed with me," Peter murmurs, seemingly surprised.

John's reply comes out gruff from sleep and just a tiny bit of embarrassment. "I told you I would."

A startled smile crosses the wolf's face and he rolls onto his back. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He runs a hand through his hair thinking this is the weirdest morning after conversation he's ever had. "Do you...remember what...?" He probably shouldn't pry, but Peter seems himself again, and he's curious--mostly so he can try to keep whatever triggered Peter from happening again.

"I turned on the radio to listen to music while I washed the dishes and the station had switched to Christmas music," he explains slowly, as if he's working through it. "Christmas was important to my family. It's also Derek's birthday, and I guess it hit me that I don't have a family that wants me around and Derek won't ever accept another gift from me. We used to be as close as brothers," he adds softly and sadly. "And then I realized Stiles will be home at the end of next week and he's not going to want me around either, and, I guess it just spiraled from there. Since coming out of the vegetative state, I've spent every Christmas locked away in Eichen House where no one celebrated and I mostly had no idea what day it was let alone that there were holidays I was missing. It just all became too much."

Peter falls silent and John absorbs all that he said and the emotions behind his words and maybe the things Peter didn't say, before he sits up and looks down at the younger man. 

"Peter, I'm not going to make you leave. I know we never planned for this house sharing to last more than a few weeks, but it has and I...I like having you here."

Jaw dropping, Peter gapes at him. "But, Stiles..."

"He'll yell and protest and probably storm over to Scott's to plead with him to drive you out of town, but he does have a few reasonable bones in his body." John keeps it light and is rewarded with an amused snort from Peter, though he quickly sobers.

"I don't want to spoil your Christmas with him."

"You won't, and he'll stop bitching at me because he won't want to ruin Christmas either. You know I'm a blunt man, Peter. If I didn't want you here, you wouldn't be here." Rising from the bed, he stretches, then rubs his lower back. "This is a shitty mattress. How can you stand it?"

Peter laughs lightly, finally relaxing completely. "I'm a werewolf, any aches vanish before we can even feel them, but, if you don't mind, I think I'll get myself a memory foam one."

"Go for it. Have the delivery guys haul this one away." He doesn't say that he can replace it when Peter leaves taking his new mattress with him.

Because he doesn't want to think about Peter leaving.

End


End file.
